


High Six?

by Karma_bug



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Stan O' War II, Stangst, Tumblr Prompt, sprained ankle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 10:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14788392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karma_bug/pseuds/Karma_bug
Summary: Stanley has some memory problems, the boat gets attacked, and Stanley remembers High Six for the first time since his memory wipe.





	High Six?

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this tumblr post; https://moonstoneciphers.tumblr.com/post/173880264106/mythomagically-delicious-high-six
> 
> I literally wrote this in an hour okay

Stanley stretched his back slightly, lifting his aging body out of the lower bunk. A small groan escaped his lips as he did so, advancing himself towards the small kitchen on the boat, with the intent of getting coffee. The top bunk was empty, a sign that his brother was already awake, and had probably already made coffee.

Sure enough, the older twin was sitting at the small table, sipping from a mug filled with the dark liquid, scribbling on what appeared to be a map. He looked up as Stan entered the room, acknowledging his presence with a soft “Good morning, Stanley.”

Stan nodded, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Morning…” The sentence died in his throat. He’d meant to say his brothers name, but nothing had come up.  _Oh god, had he forgotten his own brothers name_? His eyes went wide at the realization.

Stanford noticed how his words seemed to end abruptly, and looked up to meet his brothers gaze. A small panic was spread across his face, coupled with the confusion usually brought on by a lapse in memory. Without thinking, he let his legs bring him next to his twin, and put a hand on his arm reassuringly, bringing Stan’s gaze to his own. Ford swallowed hard at the innocent fear in his eyes.

“Stanley, what’s wrong?” Ford kept his tone steady, anchoring Stan in a time when his memories abandoned him, leaving him in a dark sea of doubt.

“I-I… I don’t remember your  _name_..” Stanley’s voice was hardly above a whisper, shame wavering in his voice. Ford sighed, tightening his grip on his brothers arm.

“It’s alright, Stanley. I’m Stanford, your  _brother_ , and I’m right here. I’m here for you.” He gave a small, reassuring smile at the look of recognition in his brothers eyes.

“Right, right.  _Stanford_. I-I’m sorry, Ford…” He looked down from his brothers gaze, but Stanford put his hands on Stanley’s face and brought his forehead up to his. The contact gave a small reassurance to the guilt burning in Stanley’s stomach.

“Listen Stanley, it’s alright. I’m here to help you. I’ll always be here to help.” Stan nodded and pulled away, a genuine smile displayed on his wrinkled face. He gave a small “Thank you,” Before returning to his drink. Stanford returned to his seat, gaze on the map, but his mind was elsewhere, worried about his brothers frequent lapses in memory. He sighed quietly, taking a long sip from his mug.

0000000000000

“Back, back! Get back, you one eyed creep!” Stanley shouted against the pouring rain, aimed at the large squid near the ships hull. The creature flailed its large tentacles around in an attempt to attack. Stanford had grabbed a harpoon that was mounted on the outside wall of the Stan o’ war 2, and was currently trying to take aim at the anomaly.

As Stanley landed a punch to the center of the beasts eye, Stanford fired the weapon, hitting it deadcenter in the head. With a screech, it retreated back into the murky water- though not before slamming its massive limb into Ford, knocking him off of his feet and into the side of the cabin with a yelp. Stan called out to him as the last of the creature descended into the deep.

“Ford! Stanford, are you okay?” Stanley was by Ford’s side in an instant, scanning his body for any injuries. A small sigh escaped him when his brother looked mostly unharmed after a quick lookover. Stanford smiled gently, and spoke. “I’m fine, Stanley. I just need to- augh!”

After attempting to stand, when placing weight on his right ankle, a jolt of pain was sent up his leg. His brother looked at him, clearly worried, but Ford just sighed. “It’s just a sprain Stanley, I can tell. We’ve both had much worse.”

Slightly calmed by his brothers words, Stan slung Ford’s arm over his shoulder and began guiding him back to the cabin. “Alright, Poindexter. You’re getting back inside to rest. And I don’t want to see you walking around on that leg.” Ford sighed, but did not object as Stanley led him inside and onto his bunk.

“I’m goin’ outside to check the damage,  _you_  stay here.”

“Whatever you say,  _Doctor_.”

Both of the twins chuckled as Stanley stepped outside.

00000000000000

To say that Ford was stressed was a bit of an understatement. Stanley’s memory lapses seemed to be getting worse, and with no discernable pattern. He desperately wanted to help his brother, but just didn’t know how. And now, the boat suffered quite a beating from the giant squid, meaning they’d have to dock on the nearest coast for repairs. Now, he could hardly move with this sprained ankle, which would only make things harder on Stan.

He hated this. He hated feeling so useless while his brother was doing the work. He wanted to get up, to help, to do  _something_ , but Stanley wouldn’t allow that. How was he supposed to help his brother when he could hardly move from his bed?

As he wrote down small inscriptions in his notepad, Stanley appeared with two plates of food, reheated pot roast and carrots from last night’s dinner. Stanford gave a smile of gratitude as Stanley set the plate in front of him, sitting himself across from Ford on the bunk.

The meal was unnervingly silent, Ford hardly touching his food, instead engulfed in working out the patterns of recent anomalies they’d encountered. Stanley took note of his brothers distress, and tried to offer some comfort.

“Hey, Ford, don’t worry so much. It’s gonna be okay.”

Ford wanted to agree, wanted to just laugh it off like everything  _was_  okay, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t seem to muster up the energy to fake it. Instead, he just gave a small, forced smile that anyone could see through. Stan sighed.

“C’mon, chin up bud, it’ll get better soon, just you wait.”

The pair returned to eating in silence, until Stan gazed at his hands. He looked down at his hands for a moment, and then to Ford’s. He looked back at his own hands, and with a small gasp, a huge, cheesy grin spread across his face.

Stanford looked up at his brothers joyous face, and as he was about to question it, a gleeful “ _High six_?” came out of his twins mouth, raising his five-fingered hand in the air.

Stanford’s stress seemed to completely melt away, replaced with absolute, heartfelt  _joy_ , as he raised his own six fingers. Their hands met, a soft “ _High six_!” escaping Stanford.

Stanford had a good feeling about the future.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave reviews to help Stan's memory.


End file.
